


Holding Hands

by Jo_busch_got_booty



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, aot, snk - Fandom
Genre: Cuties, First Date, Fluff, M/M, Marriage, hella gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:31:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3640293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jo_busch_got_booty/pseuds/Jo_busch_got_booty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they held each other's hands, they knew something was up</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Hands

I remember the first time we held hands. It was early in the evening, and the setting sun was shining gently through the branches of the tree in front of us. It wasn't beautiful, not with the leaves falling in our faces, and garbage covering the ground that we were supposed to be cleaning. And I knew he wasn't totally happy with our arrangement, but when I leaned a hand over to cover his mouth to get him to shut up and stop complaining, he plucked it off of his face and just... held it.

The second time was on a hill at the local high school. We were surrounded by drunk couples, who took the vendors as their one chance a year to drink on school grounds and throw themselves over the steep incline, and slam into the fence around the football field. We lay there, quietly droning on and on about this or that, both of us looking expectantly up at the night sky while we awaited the first telltale spark of fireworks. When we heard the first hiss, I felt him tangle his fingers in with mine, and I had never felt more at home.

The next time was in a local hospital. I had brought him a teddy bear, some flowers, and they sat on the bedside table proudly. I had plopped myself down in a chair, his mother had just left for the evening, and we just talked. We talked about how his surgery had been successful, how he no longer had an appendix-- apparently, he had asked the doctor to take it home; the request had been denied. Somewhere between words, I had snuck my hand over to his, picked it up, and pressed his knuckles to my lips. He smiled, chuckled, and didn't pull away.

Our third official date started off light, airy. He was cliche, picked me up in some ratty old car, didn't knock on the door but threw pebbles at my window. When I hopped into the vehicle he let me pick the music, and somehow I knew it would all be cheesy eighties love songs. We sang along anyway, windows open, the wind blowing my hair back. When we pulled up to the restaurant, he insisted I let him open my door, escort me in. I considered protesting, but instead I let him, but I made him hold my hand instead of making me wrap my arm around his. And finally, when we arrived home, we stood outside of the car for a minute, wordlessly, until we both leaned in.

Our first kiss was cheesy and cliche, but I still walked inside with butterflies in my stomach, and grinning like and idiot, and I was sure there couldn't have been a better first date in history.

He's sitting beside me now as I write this, we're on the plane ride home from our honeymoon. I can see him smiling out of the corner of my eye, and he would like to inform me, "bro, you're gay" and I would like to point out that he is, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know why I wrote this. It just happened and it's cute


End file.
